So when you see grief on the telly, it’s lots of people wailing and crying and staring out of the window at the rain. In reality that’s bullshit.
So far I’ve experienced sadness, crying, sobbing, sleepless nights, stress buying, stress eating, hysterical laughing, comforting other people, giggles, sorrow, hugs, and a whole bunch of weirdness.
Today is my mother-in-law’s birthday and let me tell you, I bloody love Barbara, she’s just ace. I thought I’d be ok today to help her celebrate her big day, but it’s turns out, nope, not really. What’s worse is, it sort of crept up on me, I went through the motions today, we went to vote and had lunch out, but when it came time to go out, I had zero motivation,
I realised that if I went, I would have had to pretend I was “OK” for maybe 4 hours and it dawned on me that I couldn’t do it.
You see, I didn’t feel bad today, but after my realisation about going out, I sort of realised too, that just because the funeral is over, my unmeasurable feelings are not.
My dad tonight told me he thinks I’ve held it together really well, but he only knows what I show him. Everyone only knows what I show them and the only person that has any real clue is M. People tell me I’ve been brave, again, bullshit. I’m not brave, I’m afraid. Afraid that I don’t know who I am now I’ve lost my mum. Afraid that each time I see card with “Mum” on it, I’ll cry. Afraid that I am always going to have to refer to my mum in the past tense and that I will always be talking about cancer. I’m afraid my dad will be lonely and that every family event from now on will be tinged with sadness. I’m afraid that people will always feel a bit sorry for me for a while and that I will never have a normal nights sleep again.
I fucking hate cancer. It took my mum and therefore it took a piece of me. Now what?